Wolf in the Snow
by Lord Jashin Follower
Summary: Stiles had thought he had defeated it. That it was no longer a worry. He was wrong. Now it's back, and he's not sure if he can defeat it again. The pack, however, refuse to let him quit. Sterek Derek/Stiles eventually wolf!Stiles
1. Chapter 1

A steady current of tears slid down Stiles cheeks. He leaned over the sink and spat a glob of blood into the bowl. Stiles rinsed out his mouth and wiped his face. He leaned back and gave a shuttering sigh. This was the last symptom, the last tell-tale sign. First it was the headaches and tiredness. Stiles just kept telling himself that it was from all the werewolf and kanima business. That he was just being paranoid. That it wasn't happening, not again.

Then the constant ache in his joints and bones, like someone had taken a hammer to his insides. But who wouldn't be sore after being thrown into a tree/car/wall? Derek and Erica seemed to love shoving him into random hard places. The final hint was this. Stiles had to stop lying to himself. The bruises gained by a simple bump? The bleeding gums and weight loss?

Stiles shook his head and pulled on a fresh shirt before heading downstairs. His dad sat at the kitchen table reading the paper. He didn't need to leave early, no longer having a job to go to. Stiles winced. His dad was already having a tough time, but this? This could be the straw to break the camel's back.

"Dad? Can . . . can we talk?"

The former sheriff looked up at his son and noticed the serous expression on the younger man's face. John Stillinski put his paper down and waited patiently. Stiles shakily sat down, but couldn't sit still. He stood back up and started to pace.

"I . . . Dad."

Stiles stopped pacing and looked his father straight in the eyes.

"Dad, I'm sick again"

John's expression grew serious and he stood up and gently grabbed Stiles by his shoulders. In this house, there were two kinds of 'sick'. There was sick, like the common flu, and then there was Sick.

"Stiles"

John swallowed.

"Genim, are you sure?"

Tears started to leak from his eyes as he nodded.

"I've got them all. Headaches, always tired, sore joints and bones! I-I've lost a lot of weight and this morning my gums started to bleed. And . . . and look!"

By now Stiles was sobbing as he pulled up his shirt to reveal a large bruise on his side. It was the size of two fists and was an ugly display of purple, green, and yellow.

John pulled his son into a warm hug, and Stiles clung to his shoulders as he cried. Normally, he would have been dead embarrassed, but he was too scared. He had been in remission for almost five years. They thought he had beaten it for good, but they were all wrong.

Genim 'Stiles' Stillinski's cancer had come back.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles sat at the kitchen table, knee bouncing. His dad was in the other room on the phone with Will Redding, Stiles old Oncologist. He heard his dad hang up the phone and walk back into the kitchen. Stiles looked up at him before quickly looking down. He hated seeing that pained expression on his Dad's face. John sat down heavily in one of the wooden chairs.

"You have an appointment with Dr. Redding in an hour. You should go upstairs and get dressed."

Stiles nodded, unusually quiet, and went to go change out of his sweat pants. He walked into his room and closed the door, leaning against it.

"Stiles?"

Stiles jumped and pushed himself off the door. Scott was sitting on his windowsill, halfway climbing down.

"Damn it Scott! Bells! All you damn werewolves are going to wear bells!"

Scott smirked and dropped down into Stiles' room.

"Dude, were having a pack meeting soon. Come on, we have to go now or Derek will get pissed if we're late again."

Stiles let the smile drop from his face. _Shit, there's a pack meeting today._

"Sorry dude, but I can't make it today. My-my Dad wants to spend the day with me."

Scott raised an eyebrow. It was a total Spock.

"Dude, don't give me the _Mr. Spock_ eyebrow. He says it's like a father son bonding day or something."

Scott frowned but nodded.

"Yeah, alright man. But it's your funeral."

Scott jumped out the window and started to run towards the abandoned subway tracks. Stiles swallowed, suppressing the urge to throw up. _But it's your funeral._ Derek may not kill him, but Stiles had a feeling that he may not need to.

His cancer would most likely kill him first.

* * *

Stiles lifted up the plastic spoon and watched as the pink strawberry yogurt plopped back into the small container. He placed the spoon back in and pulled it up again. John Stillinski sat across the small table that was really only designed for one person to sit at. Right now they were sitting in the hospital cafeteria, waiting for 11o'clock to roll around.

When they first got to the hospital, Dr. Redding had examined Stiles and conceded that his leukemia was most likely back. However, to be sure, Stile would have to get a bone marrow biopsy and lumbar puncture. Both of which involved large needles and pain.

John sighed as his son lifted up a glob of yogurt, only to watch it drip back down.

"Genim, I know you're nervous, but you really need to eat."

Stiles just dropped the spoon into the plastic container and pushed it away from him.

"No thanks, Dad. You know that every time I get a bone marrow biopsy, I throw up."

The former sheriff reached across the table and tousled Stiles' short hair.

"Yeah, kid. Alright. Now why don't you tell me what you and Scott have been up to recently."

Stiles smiled.

"Well our little group of friends has gotten bigger."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There's Scott and me, but now there's Allison, Danny, Lydia, Jackson-"

John interrupted his son.

"Wait, Jackson Whittemore? The kid who's bullied you and Scott since 3rd grade. That Jackson?"

Stiles chuckled slightly.

"Yeah, that Jackson. We're not the closest of friends, but he's pretty cool once you get to know him."

John nodded for Stiles to continue.

"Then there's Isaac-"

"The kid who was abused by his dad?"

"Yeah. We've all been working with getting him to open up. Trying to get him not so afraid. And then we have Boyd and Erica."

Stiles finished listing the pack, purposely leaving out Derek. Here was no need to give his Dad a heart attack. Of course, they were in a hospital. The teenager smiled at his own joke, and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter till 11.

John noticed his son's pale face and looked up at the clock as well. He stood and pulled on Stiles until he was following behind him.

"Come on squirt, let's go."

* * *

Stiles screamed as the needle forced its way through his bone. His hands clawed desperately at the thin white sheets that lay underneath him. Tears were streaming down his face as he yelled in agony. Another sharp blow from the hammer had the needle into his hip bone.

Six pairs of hands held him down as he tried to thrash away from the pain. Someone was calling his name, trying to draw him away from the pain.

"Stiles! Genim, look at me! It's okay, it's going to be okay!"

Through the haze, he recognized his father's voice. Before he could even try to respond, a sharp tugging feeling spread throughout his hip. Stiles threw back his head, eyes clouded over in pain. He screamed as more tears came. A sharp yank and the burning pain of the cold needle was gone.

Stiles dropped his sweaty head down onto the small white pillow. He could feel bile rise in his throat. He moaned a warning, but one of the nurses must have seen it coming and had a metal pale in front of him. Stomach acid and blood was all that came up, the blood coming from when he had bit the inside of his cheek. Stiles dry heaved a couple more times before spitting into the bowl.

His dad patted the back of his head and neck, trying to give him some comfort. The doctor held up a large needle with a syringe, and Stiles could see his bone marrow through the clear plastic. It was a dark sludgy red, darker and thicker than blood. The doctor nodded at Stiles before turning to the elder Stillinski.

"I'll give him an hour of rest, but then we need to do the Lumbar Puncture."

Stiles let out a strangled sob.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek was beyond pissed. He was furious. It was a _pack_ meeting, and Stiles was _pack_. There could not be a pack meeting unless all the pack was there. Derek growled and whirled around to face the pack. Well, most of the pack. They all shrunk back, fighting the instincts to just flee.

"_What_ did he say again?"

Scott frowned before speaking.

"He said his father wanted to spend the day with him for father/son bonding."

Derek slammed his clawed fist into the metal side of the old subway car. A large dent was left in his wake.

"Father/son _BONDING?_"

The pack scooted back, trying to get as far away from the angry alpha. Derek say this and took a deep, calming breath. His stoic mask quickly slid on.

"Alright, I'm going to kill him. Then I will bring his bleeding body back here. 20 laps around the block, full sprint, until I get back. Allison and Danny, target practice."

The werewolves and two humans all gave a sigh of relief. Derek simple stomped up the stairs.

10 minuets of running, and Derek stood outside the Stillinski home. Stiles' jeep was still parked in the car, but his dad's car was not. Derek listened and found no heartbeats in the house. They had already left. The alpha wolf growled under his breath and turned away, but froze. That smell. The smell of blood was leaking from the house.

Derek's heart skipped in worry (not fear, because Derek was _not_ afraid for _Stiles_). He jumped up to Stiles' window and opened it and rolled in. Derek landed quietly. He knew no one else was in the house, but it never hurt to be careful. He followed the pungent smell to the hall bathroom. Opening the door quietly, he flipped on the lights.

The strong smell of blood, Stiles' blood, made his wolf growl. Looking in the sink, he didn't see any blood, but he could smell it. It had been washed out of the bowl, but the scent still lingered Derek opened his mouth to taste the air. The stale scent of Stiles filtered around. He could smell the blood and salty tears, along with fear.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

Stiles glared at the IV bag, trying to set it on fire with his mind.

"Stiles, stop trying to use The Force on the IV bag"

Stiles looked over at his father.

"Really, Dad? A Star Wars joke?"

John just shrugged.

Stiles started to turn, but a dull ache in his back and hip stopped him. He groaned and stilled his movement. He hated having to sit still. He glared up at the IV bag again, and followed the tube until it disappeared into his wrist.

"Why do I have to have this in again?"

"Stiles, you were dehydrated and you haven't eaten today. Now if you think you can handle some food, then you can have the IV removed."

The thought of food had Stiles' stomach rolling. He grimaced and turned away. Closing his eyes, he continued to talk to his dad.

"When do I get to go home?"

"Later this evening, probably around 6 or 7. They need to check your hip and back and then you need to take an antibiotic."

Stiles slung an arm over his closed eyes and licked his bottom lip in anxiety.

"When-when will we know?"

Stiles felt his dad place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"The lab results will be in, in about 2 days."

"Two days. A lot can happen in two days"

* * *

Stiles didn't get to go home that night. He was too sore to walk without help, so his doctor decided to keep him over night to sleep it off. By the next morning, he was feeling a little better. He could walk with no limp and the dull ache had faded to almost nothing.

They were pulling up to the house around 9 in the morning. Stiles got out of the car and stretched, stifling a yawn.

"Hey, Dad, I'm gonna go take a nap in my room. 'Kay?"

John nodded as he unlocked the front door.

"Alright. I'll bring you up some soup later."

"No thanks, I'm not all that hungry"

"It wasn't an offer, Stiles. I'm going to bring you soup, and you are going to eat it."

Stiles rolled his eyes and entered the house and headed up to his room. He opened the door and closed it behind him. Only to be slammed up against his door frame. His back hit hard, the area of the LP screamed to life. The pain in his hip, however, was worse. Stiles whimpered in pain before looking up into the face of Derek.

Derek's anger slipped from his face and his grip on Stiles' shirt loosened. The werewolf looked at the human before leaning in real close. Stiles pulled back his head in worry. Was his throat bout to be ripped out? Derek took a couple of deep sniffs before snorting.

It sounded almost like a sneeze a dog would make when he smelled something he didn't like. Derek pulled back and let Stiles go. He headed towards the window and threw it open.

"You smell like disinfectant."

_Huh?_

"Err. . . sorry?"

"You better be. Don't miss another pack meeting again."

Then the alpha wolf was gone, already to the sidewalk.

"What. . . what the hell just happened?"

* * *

"_What. . . what the hell just happened?"_

Derek could hear Stiles, even though he was already a block away. When he first jumped into Stiles' room just as Stiles entered, he had planned to just shove him a little and pull the 'I'm the alpha, do as I say' thing.

But then when he did shove him into him into the door frame, the smell of pain came at Derek in waves. He could hear Stiles whimper and suck in a breath.

_The hell._

Derek was sure he hadn't pushed him that hard. He had loosened his grip and sniffed the human tastily. He smelled strongly of disinfectant. He told him so, along with 'Don't miss another pack meeting' and left. Derek knew that smell. Had it engraved in his brain from all the times he had visited his uncle before he knew he was crazy.

Stiles had been at the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles stepped into the abandoned subway tracks and smiled at the pack.

"Stiles!"

Scott, Allison, Danny, and Isaac jumped up from where they were sitting, practically throwing themselves onto the poor teen. Stiles stumbled back, but Derek placed his hand on his back, keeping Stiles standing up. Stiles smiled and hugged the group back.

"Hey guys! Sorry I couldn't come for the pack meeting the other day."

Erica smirked as she stood up.

"Have fun spending the day with your dad?"

Stiles gave a tight smile as he scratched the back of his head.

"Sure did. We went fishing and then jogged around the lake."

Derek growled while Lydia sat up, head cocked to the side. Stiles' smile dropped from his face. _Shit._

"You're lying"

Lydia accused Stiles.

Stiles gave a nervous laugh.

"N-no I'm not. What a-are you talking about?"

Derek growled as Scott, Allison, Danny, and Isaac backed up to look at Stiles.

"We can hear your heartbeat, Stiles. We can tell that you're lying."

Stiles backed up nervously. Derek stepped forward as he stepped back.

"Yesterday, you smelled like the hospital. Why were you at the hospital?"

Stiles' breath quickened as he backed up further, closer to the stairs.

"I-I. . . it's just. . ."

Stiles spun on his heel and raced up the stairs. The pack jumped forward to go after him, but Derek held up a hand, stopping them.

"No. Let him go calm down. He'll talk to us when he's ready."

Scott growled

"But he's my best friend. I can't just-"

"You can, and you will!"

Allison placed a calming hand on Scott's arm.

"He's right Scott. He needs time to cool down. He'll tell us what's going on when he's ready."

Jackson nodded and spoke up.

"Yeah, he's probably not even sick. For all we know, he could just be visiting someone."

Everyone knew it wasn't true. They had seen how pale and skinny the teenager had become.

Scott looked up the stairs at where Stiles had disappeared.

"I just hope that it's not. . ."

Scott trailed off as all the blood rushed from his face.

Erica frowned.

"Not what, McCall?"

Scott suddenly stumbled back and ran towards the trash bin in the corner. He leaned over it as he threw up. Everyone jumped to their feet, surprise and fear dancing through their minds. Allison ran over to Scott and started to rub his back.

"What is it Scott?"

"I-I can't believe I didn't notice it. I-I w-was there for the first time. A-and now h-he's"

Scott swallowed hard, trying to hold back his tears.

"Damn it, Scott! What is going on?"

Derek growled, a tinge of fear in the back of his mind. Scott looked up at the pack, a solemn expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. I-I can't tell you that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because it's not my place to tell you!"

Everyone stood, stunned silent.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but the test results came back positive. You have APL Leukemia."

Stiles closed his eyes, dread enveloping his body. The doctor stood in front of Stiles and his dad, giving them the news.

"Your white blood cell count was over 100,000 and we need to start you on chemotherapy immediately. We will be inserting a central venous catheter with three ends into the right side of your chest. This will make it easier to administrate the drug without having to give you a million shots or keep you hooked up to an IV."

The doctor droned on with the facts, but Stiles had heard it all before. He knew what he was in for and he knew all the possible end results. Stiles felt numb for the rest of the day.

He was numb when they put him on an IV to hydrate him. He was numb when the scrubbed him down and prepped him for surgery.

He was numb when he was put under, and he was numb when he dreamed about a large black wolf.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles laid back in the hospitals bed, his entire body sore. He glanced down at the CVC line that stuck out of his chest. The sight of the three clear tubes disappearing into his body always made him shutter. Each tube had a color coordinated cap.

Currently the red cap was open and an IV bag was connected to it. Three hours into his first chemotherapy session, and Stiles already felt like shit. The doctors had given him an anti-nausea drug, but it only helped so much. Stiles groaned as his stomach turned, but he refused to be sick again. The shrill sound of a phone ringing hurt his ears, but he slowly picked it up and placed it next to his ear.

"Hello?"

"**Stiles, where are you?"**

_Derek._

"Why does it matter?"

"**I like to know where all my pack members are. Now. Where. Are. You?"**

Stiles sighed. If he didn't tell him, he knew Derek would just hunt him down. Possible threaten people until he figured out where he was.

"I'm at the hospital."

"**Which room?"**

Derek was pissed. Stiles couldn't help it when he imagined Derek slamming some random nurse into a wall until he found Stiles. But then Stiles' mind came back to reality, because why in the hell would Derek go so far for _Stiles_? There was no real point in lying to the pack.

"Room N208"

Derek hung up.

* * *

Derek clicked off his phone and turned to the pack.

"Stiles is at the hospital again."

Stomping away, the pack followed. Lydia jogged up until she was just behind the alpha.

"Are we going to go visit him?"

Derek nodded.

"We need to figure out once and for all what the hell is wrong."

"Well okay, but we're going to have to stop by Hallmarks before we go to the hospital."

Derek stopped in front of his car and looked over at Lydia.

"Why?"

Lydia sighed dramatically and gave Derek a look. She looked at him like he had just asked what 2+2 equals. Allison stepped forward.

"She's right. You can't just go visit someone at the hospital without bringing something."

Derek growled. He didn't want to waste time getting _Get Well_ gifts when he should be with Stiles. Stiles was _his_, and he needed him _now_. _Wait, wait. What?_ Derek shook his head. Stiles was _not_ his, he was just a normal pack member. Sure he would protect his pack, but each member was their own. Stiles did _not_ belong to Derek.

"Derek?"

Shaken out of his thoughts by Allison, he sighed. The girls did have a point. You really couldn't go visit someone in the hospital without bringing _something_.

"Fine, alright. Meet up at Hallmarks, and then we'll head to the hospital."

* * *

Scott, Allison, Jackson, Danny, Lydia, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Derek all stood outside the N wing of the hospital, arms cluttered with stuffed bears and balloons. Derek felt his stomach drop as he looked at the sign on the wall.

_Oncology_

Scott let out a low whine of sadness. Derek whirled around on him. Scott slunk back slightly.

"Is this what you meant? He's been here before? This. . . this is not the first time?"

Scott shook his head and glanced down at the white floors.

"N-no, this is not the first time. Actually, this is the third time."

Derek felt slightly dizzy at that.

"He was first diagnosed when he was 6. He went into remission when he was 8, but it came back when he was 9. He went back into remission when he was 11. We-we all thought it was gone for good, that he h-had finally beaten it-"

Scott's throat closed with tears. Allison hugged him tightly.

"What kind?"

Scott swallowed and blinked away his tears before answering.

"Leukemia."

Derek covered his eyes with a shaking hand.

"APL"

Derek's head whipped up as he stared at Scott, shock on his face. Isaac looked between the two, confused fear in his eyes.

"W-what's APL? Is it bad?"

Allison nodded.

"It's a rare form of Leukemia. It's well known for killing."

Derek felt like he had just been punched in the gut.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, Batman!"

Stiles looked up as Erica strutted into the room. The pack was close behind her, arms full of stuffed toys and balloons.

Scott had his common kicked puppy look. Allison had her arms wrapped around him; her eyes were filled with unshed tears. Erica was smiling, but it was too wide, too forced. Jackson was angrily whispering to Danny. Said teen was frowning and glancing sadly at Stiles. Lydia was biting the inside of her lip, looking everywhere but Stiles. Isaac was openly crying while Boyd was trying to comfort him.

Stiles skipped over all of them, his eyes landing on Derek. Derek. . . Derek looked. . . Derek looked pissed. Stiles felt his heart deflate. Stiles forced himself to smile at the pack.

"Hey guys."

Erica smiled and dropped her armful of gifts on a table in the corner of the room. The pack scooted all the way into the room, closer to the bed. Stiles absently scratched at his CVC line. Isaac winced as he looked at where the tubes disappeared into Stiles' body.

"Stiles. . . "

Scott whimpered again, Isaac let out a short yipping whine along with it. Stiles frowned at the pained noise the pack made. The ADHD teen gave the most convincing smile he could.

"Guys, it's okay. I-"

Stiles stopped short, face paling. He leaned forward, gagging into his hand. Boyd quickly placed a metal pale in his lap. Stiles shook as his body dry heaved and dispelled the little stomach acid he had. Lydia rushed forward and rubbed his back soothingly as Allison appeared with a glass of water. Stiles spat into the bowl before smiling weakly at the two girls.

"Thanks."

Stiles rinsed his mouth out a couple of times before taking a tentative sip. Almost as suddenly, a knot formed in his chest. He feared for a moment he was going to be sick again, but there was no nausea. Only a tight knot in his chest. Stiles looked up. Derek was gone. The knot tightened.

Derek was out the door the second Stiles got sick. He would not, could not sit there while a pack member was sick or hurt. He hated this, and there was nothing he could do about it. Derek stepped out the door and angrily stomped down the hall. He collapsed into one of the hard backed hospital chairs and sighed. An annoying knot tightened in his chest. Derek growled and his eyes flickered red. Of all the things to happen to Stiles, of ALL the things to happen.

There was nothing Derek could do for this. There was no Kanima or Hunters to fight. No wound to clamp down on. No freezing water to face for two hours. Derek was very familiar with the feeling of anger. It was his anchor, helped him keep in check the alpha in him. Right now, all he wanted to do was go and destroy everything. Anything to remove this stupid knot from his chest, anything to make Stiles better. Derek snapped out of his thoughts as someone dropped down into the chair next to him.

John Stilinski was a little beyond startled when he saw Derek Hale sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair. John had gone off to get a sludgy coffee from the vending machines, only to return to see a pissed off ex-convict. Said moody young man was glaring at his shoes, unconsciously rubbing his chest. Why was Derek here? All his family was dead, and why the Oncology sections?

_'I may know him a little better than that.'_

Oh. . . oh. Derek was here visiting Stiles. Or was visiting Stiles. Now he just looked like he was about to go kill someone. John sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

_'Damn it, Trisha. Why can't I just leave this alone?'_

Silently cursing his wife for making him care so much for other people, he sat down next to Derek. Derek looked over at him before sitting up straight with a start. Before the kid could get up and walk away, John spoke.

"Alright, Hale. It seems we need to have a talk."


End file.
